


our kiss is as the moon to draw

by blackkat



Series: HP Drabbles [5]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/F, Flirting, Friendship, Humor, Marauders Era (Harry Potter), Quidditch
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-24
Updated: 2019-02-24
Packaged: 2019-11-05 00:02:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,493
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17908220
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blackkat/pseuds/blackkat
Summary: “Problems, cousin?” Narcissa calls to Sirius, cool and sugar-sweet. She’s smirking, braid of pale hair coming loose, and Lily should absolutely be cheering for Gryffindor, but she can't help herself. As Narcissa turns into a sharp dive, snatching the Quaffle right out of James's hands as she passes, she whoops, clapping her hands together.“I think this is the part where I'm supposed to call you a traitor,” Remus observes from the seat beside her, as dry as dust, though he hasn’t even lifted his gaze from his book.





	our kiss is as the moon to draw

**Author's Note:**

> For a prompt on my Tumblr: Narcissia/Lily but it’s a Quidditch tournament and Narcissia is out to win and Lily is thoroughly impressed?

“Foul!” Sirius screeches as his broom goes wheeling away. “Foul, ref, call the bloody foul!”

Lily buries her grin in her scarf. Really, even _she_ knows that Narcissa wouldn’t have attempted a foul when the referee was looking. If she did it, she’s not about to get caught.

“Problems, cousin?” Narcissa calls back, cool and sugar-sweet. She’s smirking, braid of pale hair coming loose, and Lily should absolutely be cheering for Gryffindor, but she can't help herself. As Narcissa turns into a sharp dive, snatching the Quaffle right out of James's hands as she passes, she whoops, clapping her hands together.

“I think this is the part where I'm supposed to call you a traitor,” Remus observes from the seat beside her, as dry as dust, though he hasn’t even lifted his gaze from his book.

Lily rolls her eyes and doesn’t pull her gaze away from the green-and-silver figure rising above the field, James in hot pursuit. Regulus sweeps between them, and for a moment her heart is in her throat as she rises to her feet, looking for the Snitch—

“Damn it, Reg!” James shouts, veering off course at the last moment, and Narcissa laughs, chucking the Quaffle straight into a teammate’s hands. He swoops for the goals, and there's a roar from the Slytherin side of the stands as it goes in.

Smirking, Regulus pulls up, flushed and breathless and smug as a cat with the birdcage door left open. “Watch where you're going, Potter,” he taunts, and James hisses something at him that would make his mother wash his mouth out with soap.

“Nice pass!” Lily calls up, because Narcissa is swooping back towards her, looking eminently pleased with herself. The call makes her glance down in surprise, but when she sees Lily she winks and blows her a kiss, then turns her broom so she’s facing the Gryffindor goal.

“Nice to have an ally on this side,” she says, and it’s full of languid amusement as she eyes Lily. “Shouldn’t a prefect have some House pride?”

Lily grins back. “I have House pride,” she retorts. “But I can appreciate a nice pass.”

“I’ll have to show you a few more, then,” Narcissa shoots back, and tosses her braid over her shoulder, tugs her gloves up a little further, and calls, “Zabini!”

The beautiful black girl on the other side of the field waves in acknowledgement, and rockets towards one of the Gryffindor Chasers as the she grabs the Quaffle out of the air. The Gryffindor girl dives, but Zabini follows her, and as Sirius shoots towards a Bludger a streak of green intercepts him, almost knocking him off his broom. He swerves just in time, and Narcissa follows him down, giving the Slytherin Beater enough time to get to the Bludger first.

“Cissa, I'm going to hex you!” Sirius roars, but Narcissa is already gone, bent low over her broom as she heads straight for the Quaffle. Zabini snatches it from the air as the Gryffindor Chaser tries to pass, then flips it up high, and Lily feels her breath tangle as Narcissa whirls up, both arms outstretched, James just beyond the tail of her broom. She leans forward, gripping the railing, and for an instant Narcissa is a rising star, blond and silver and green, straight up into the sky after the red ball.

And then a diving figure almost slams into James, makes him duck and roll and come up with an angry shout after Regulus’s falling form. Lily catches the glint of gold at the same moment as Narcissa seizes the Quaffle and hurls it forward, right past the Gryffindor Keeper. The crowd roars, and there's a cheer from a hundred throats as Regulus rises again, Snitch clutched in one hand, grinning the way he so rarely does.

“Damn it, Sirius!” James complains. “Your damned family is a _menace_.”

“I've been saying that for years!” Sirius protests, but Lily can't watch their bickering. Her eyes are on Narcissa, laughing with Zabini as they circle the stadium in a lazy victory loop, then peel off. Most of the team is landing, but Narcissa stops in front of the stands, right across the rail from Lily, and gives her a smile that’s slightly too giddy to be a smirk.

“Acceptable?” she asks slyly.

Lily laughs, and physically can't stoop herself from leaning closer, over the edge of the rail. “You don’t play fair at all,” she accuses.

Narcissa looks unbothered. “Slytherin,” she reminds Lily, and drifts closer. There's sweat sticking her golden hair to her neck, and she’s breathless, cheeks flushed from the cold. When she reaches out, there's no force in the world that could make Lily move away from her hand.

Pulling the scarf from Lily’s neck, Narcissa tosses it over her own shoulders. “Spoils of victory,” she drawls, and drops towards the field, landing lightly and immediately grabbing Regulus as he approaches. He drags her up against his side, laughing with her as the rest of the Slytherin team closes in, and—

“Oh,” Lily says, because her heart is pounding from more than just the adrenaline of that last moment. She feels lightheaded, too warm, flushed and silly like she’s been doused in Pepper-Up Potions again. The scarf around Narcissa’s neck is like a beacon, bright red and gold against the green of her Quidditch robes, and Lily can't pull her eyes from it. she’s going to have to get it back at some point, because she _likes_ that scarf, but right now she can still feel it sliding loose, can't think of anything but the curve of Narcissa’s lips as she dragged it towards her like she was going to pull Lily with it.

Remus hums, quietly judgmental. “You might want to get that look off your face before James and Sirius notice,” he tells her. “They're not going to be nearly as understanding as I am.”

“You're _understanding_?” Lily huffs. “You called me a traitor!”

“I said I was _supposed_ to call you a traitor,” Remus says, and raises a brow at her. “Narcissa is usually the first out of the changing rooms, you know.”

“And Regulus is last?” Lily asks pointedly, but Remus doesn’t even bother to flush, just turns a page and ignores her pointedly. Lily rolls her eyes, but she turns regardless, because she really _does_ want that scarf back. She’d also rather not listen to Sirius and James whine for the next week, either, not if she can help it. they're such poor losers.

When she picks her way down from the stands, the hallway to the teams’ locker rooms is empty, so she settles herself against the wall, checking the time. Still a good two hours before dinner, and she’s got nothing else to do right now—all her homework’s been seen to, and none of the prefects have patrol tonight. The Hogsmeade weekend starts tomorrow, and they're in the easy spot between exams, so the castle is relatively quiet.

A creaky door draws her attention, and she glances up just in time to see Narcissa emerging from the Slytherin dressing room, broom over her shoulder, clad in her school robes instead of her uniform. Her hair is wet, falling around her shoulders, and Lily’s scarf is still around her neck.

“Are you a thief now, too?” Lily asks, and Narcissa’s eyes settle on her instantly. She smiles, and she’s normally lovely, but that smile makes Lily’s breath tangle in her lungs.

“I told you, it’s spoils of victory,” Narcissa says, unbothered, but she tangles her fingers in the fringe of the scarf and looks Lily over. “Did you want to take issue with my appropriation, Evans?”

Lily smothers the smile that wants to break free, tries her best to keep her expression stern as she folds her arms over her chest. “That’s my favorite scarf, I’ll have you know. I want it back.”

Narcissa hums, tilting her head like she’s considering the issue. “But I won it fair and square,” she says.

This time, Lily can't help but laugh. “You’ve never played _anything_ fair and square,” she retorts.

Narcissa laughs, and it’s a sweet sound. “I'm certainly not about to start now,” she says. “Buy me lunch in Hogsmeade tomorrow, Evans, and I’ll return your scarf unharmed.”

“And if I don’t?” Lily challenges.

With a smirk, Narcissa brushes past her, and her fingers trail down Lily’s arm, a tangible touch even through Lily’s cloak. “Then I have a spot on my dresser where it would look _perfect_ ,” she says, and leans in to press a light kiss to Lily’s cheek, smelling of shampoo and citrus and clean, cold air. “Noon at the Three Broomsticks, don’t be late.”

“Don’t forget my scarf,” Lily calls back, when she can find her tongue again. Narcissa waves over her shoulder, casts Lily a smile that’s full of smug victory that has _no right_ to be so pretty, and keeps walking.


End file.
